


It is Well

by mcfair_58



Category: Little House on the Prairie (TV)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-09
Updated: 2020-11-09
Packaged: 2021-03-09 05:28:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 13,681
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27479590
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mcfair_58/pseuds/mcfair_58
Summary: The Ingalls need a new well. After begging Charles to dig her one, Caroline is seized with a sudden fear. is it a premonition of disaster? Based on Chapter Twelve, an including dialogue, from Laura Ingalls Wilder's original book, 'Little House on the Prairie'. Chapter One is PG-13. All others are PG.





	It is Well

As with my Little House on the Prairie fan fiction, ‘Walking through Fire’, ‘It Is Well’ is based on a chapter from Laura Ingalls Wilder’s initial book. In chapter twelve, Half-pint relates the real-life story of her Pa and the dangers of digging a well. Once again, I was surprised that Michael Landon never dramatized this exciting tale from Laura’s life. This short story is my attempt to do so.   
Again, I have taken the action from the Kansas frontier and brought it to Walnut Grove. I hope you enjoy it. 

One

“Psst. Do you hear that?”  
“Hear what?”  
Laura Ingalls, a tiny and anything but tidy little girl with freckles on her nose and long hair reachin’ down to the middle of her back that she called reddish-brown, her Ma called light brown, and her Pa just plain called ‘pretty’, sighed.   
She really hated it when her sister did that. It was just plain silly. A body didn’t need to say anythin’ at all if all they was gonna do was to answer a person’s question with another question.   
With a frown on her face, the eight-year-old shifted on top of her sister.  
“What are you doing?” Mary demanded.  
“What do you think I’m doing? I’m gettin’ out of bed.”  
“Whatever for?”  
That was another silly thing – askin’ a person what they were doing when what they were doing was plain to see as the nose on your face! Only Mary’s nose wasn’t ‘plain’ to see ‘cause it was night time and they were in their loft room under order to have the lamp out and, well, Mary was in a tent of darkness created by the coverlet that was hangin’ off of her shoulders on account of the fact that she was sittin’ on top of her sister and still wearin’ it.  
“I’m gettin’ out of bed ‘cause I’m goin’ to the window. That’s whatever for,” Laura sighed as her bare feet hit the floor.  
“Ma will hear you. You’re gonna be in trouble.”  
When she reached the window, Laura planted her hands on her hips and turned back into the room. “No, I ain’t! Shows what you know. Ma won’t hear me ‘cause Ma’s outside listenin’ just like me.”  
Mary sat up in bed. She rolled her eyes and then demanded, “Listening to what?”  
Sometimes she wondered if her sister was a little deaf.   
“Whistlin’.”  
Her sister Mary was about the prettiest thing she’d ever seen. When God was handing out looks in their family, Mary got most of them. Her skin was the color of cream and her lips and cheeks pink as blush roses. She had the longest, straightest, most gorgeous-est pale blonde hair and the biggest, darkest, widest blue eyes west of the Mississippi, as Pa liked to say. ‘Mm-mm,’ she’d heard Pa say one night when he didn’t know she was listenin’. ‘Mary’s so pretty, one day that girl’s gonna turn some poor fellow’s head so far around he’ll end up walkin’ backwards.’ Her ma had laughed at that. ‘What about Laura?’ Ma asked.   
‘Half-pint?’ he’d asked. ‘She’s so cute some little bug’s gonna come right along and roll her up in his rug.’  
Cute. She guessed that was all right. But it wasn’t the same thing as ‘pretty’.   
Even she knew that.  
Mary tossed the coverlet aside. “Is it Pa?” she asked as she slipped into her slippers.  
“Ain’t Ma gonna be mad at you for bein’ up?” Laura demanded as she joined her.  
Mary frowned. “I thought you said Ma was outside.”  
Well, she did. She was just hopin’ Mary’d forgotten so she’d get just a little scared that she’d be in trouble.  
But she was just as smart as she was pretty.  
Her sister wrinkled her nose as she peered out the window. Then she pulled the sleeve of her nightdress down and wiped away some of the moisture that had formed on the glass. It was late summer and so humid you could see the mist risin’ off the corn crop.   
“I don’t see anything but Ma. Do you really think it’s Pa?”  
They hadn’t seen their pa in a few days. He’d been away helpin’ their neighbor, Mr. Scott. Mr. and Mrs. Scot were older than Ma and Pa. Their kids were all grown up and lived far away, so they didn’t know that the Scots had a whirlwind go over their place and it had torn the roof right off of their barn. If they’d of knowed that, she was sure they would have come right back to patch it up. As it was, Pa was doin’ it instead. She was proud of her pa for helpin’ out the neighbors, but she sure did miss seein’ him.  
And now he might be home!  
Laura pressed her nose to the glass next to Mary’s and squinted. Then she sighed. A body just about couldn’t see anything.  
“He’s gotta be comin’. I’d know that whistle anywhere.”  
Her pa had a lot of whistles. He had one for when he wanted them. It was sort of a long, low one with a little trill at the end. Then there was the one that meant ‘hurry up’. It was short and fast. It kind of sounded like Pa was callin’ Jack in. But her favoritest one was the one she was sure she’d heard. It was long and then short and it meant Pa’d caught sight of Ma and he sure liked what he saw.   
Mary was squinting – and frowning too. “I can’t see Ma either.”  
Laura knew why. She could see the shuttered lantern on the ground. There were shadows moving in front of it.  
She giggled.  
“He’s kissin’ her, that’s why.”  
Her sister turned toward her. “Now, just how – Laura Ingalls – do you know that?!”   
Laura sighed. “’Cause Pa does that every time he comes home and Ma’s waitin’ outside for him. He don’t even wait to get her in the house before he starts kissin’ her.”  
Mary scowled at her. “Doesn’t,” she corrected. “Laura, when are you going to learn to speak correctly?”  
She was right. Their Ma had been a school teacher and she was always tellin’ her to use other words and not to forget to put the ‘g’ on the end of thin’s – er...’things’.   
“I will when Pa does!” she countered with a wrinkle of her nose. Mary hadn’t annoyed her enough quite yet to follow that action with a stuck out tongue. “Ma don’t correct Pa.”  
Mary looked out the window again. “Nope. She just kisses him.”  
Laura looked again too. It was Pa all right. He had the lantern in his hand and had opened the shutter so the light flooded out. His other arm was around Ma’s waist and he was leanin’ down, kissin’ her on the neck.   
“You think Ma will call us to come down? Or maybe Pa will come up to tuck us in – er – back in bed?”  
Mary continued to stare out the window a moment. Then she shook her head. “They’ve got better things to do,” she said, her tone odd.   
Now, what could be better than kissin’ your little girls and tuckin’ them in for the night? Sometimes, no matter how many firsts Mary got, she wondered just how smart her sister really was.   
“Like what?” she demanded.  
Mary turned toward her, rolled her eyes again, and then took her hand and started to drag her back to bed. “You’ll understand in a few years.”  
Laura dug her heels in. “Understand what?”  
Her sister sighed. “You sure can be a nuisance some times. You know. What a ma and pa do when they want more babies.”  
Now, that was a puzzlement to her. She never noticed them doin’ anything’ different. Ma and Pa kissed and hugged and went to bed together and got up together and most of the time there weren’t any extra babies, and then, all of a sudden, there were! She’d never figured it out. She’d asked Pa one day, right after Pat and Patty had their baby – when Ma wasn’t around – if babies were made the same way by people as they were by animals. She’d never seen him turn so red! Pa told her ‘yes and no’, that while it was kind of the same, it was different, and then he’d said he had to go look after Carrie, which was funny, ‘cause Ma had Carrie right there with her by the clothes line and didn’t look like she needed any help.   
Ma’d looked at him funny too.  
Mary climbed into the bed and patted the covers next to her. With a sigh, Laura joined her and settled in. They laid there for a few minutes, listening to the door open, to Pa’s heavy footsteps and Ma’s light ones as they crossed the room, and then to the two of them talking. They were talking low, so all she could hear was the sound of their voices and not the words they were saying. Ma sounded kind of upset at one point, but soon enough the light went out and there were more footsteps and she knew they had gone to bed.   
Their little house in Walnut Grove was big compared to the sod house and the cabin they’d had on the prairie. They had their own room and so did Carrie, and there was a big room that served as parlor, dining room, and kitchen. Ma and Pa’s room was near the back, and was kind of underneath theirs. Usually they were both asleep long before their parents went to bed, but every once in a while she would lay there and listen to the sounds. They didn’t make sense to her, but she loved those sounds anyway. Sometimes when Pa kissed Ma she would suck in her breath, like he’d startled her, and let out a little sigh. Sometimes when Pa was real happy he’d laugh and then just as suddenly cry. When she laid there listenin’ to those sounds, that’s what they were – little sighs, moans, laughter and tears – each and every one of them made her so happy that she’d like to die.   
She was just about the luckiest little girl on the face of the whole wide world ‘cause her ma and pa loved each other just as much as they loved her and her sisters.  
Laura heard a giggle. It was her ma this time.  
Closing her eyes, the little girl nestled against her sleeping sister and slipped into sleep herself with a smile on her lips.  
Maybe even a little more.

Caroline shivered at the touch of her husband’s hands. They were strong, calloused hands, rough as sandpaper and scarred in places. The hands of a hard-working man; a man who gave his all every day and in every way for their community, their farm, for their children and for her. There were times when Charles worked from sun-up to sundown and came in from the fields exhausted and fell instantly asleep, and other times when he would sit up for a while after his return, sipping coffee, listening patiently as she chattered on about everything that had happened during her day, barely giving him time to draw a breath.  
And then there were times like tonight, when Charles put a finger to her lips, took her hand, and led her to the bed they shared.  
And to ecstasy.  
It didn’t matter how many times they came together as the Lord intended, each time her breath was stolen away. If it hadn’t been for Solomon’s Song of Songs, she would have felt she loved Charles too much. But this was as God intended, for the two to become one, for them to cling to one another – setting all others aside. For a husband and wife to find, in each other’s arms, something that was found nowhere else and to draw strength from it as they drew pleasure from each other’s bodies; from their lover’s taste and touch.  
Look! Here he comes, leaping across the mountains, bounding over the hills. My lover is like a gazelle or a young stag. Look! There he stands behind our wall, gazing through the windows, peering through the lattice. My lover spoke and said to me, “Arise, my darling, my beautiful one, and come with me...show me your face, let me hear your voice; for your voice is sweet, and your face is lovely.  
God alone knew how much she loved him. There were times when it frightened her just how much she did. Times when, during love-making, she would cling to him so tightly she wondered that he did not break. He would look at her then, his eyes black and shining in the moonlight, leeched of color in the silver wonder of their bed. In those eyes she saw understanding. The things of this world were temporal. Charles knew as well as she did there was no guarantee that the heart that beat so hard and fast against his own would still pulse with life the following day. Already in their marriage of a little over ten years she had faced moments where she thought she had lost him – to the rushing waters of the river as they made their way to Kansas and to a malady that nearly claimed them all, but struck Charles the hardest because he would not stop to care for himself.  
To a fall from a tree.   
It had been a pleasant day. A picnic. The kite he was flying had landed in the branches of a tall tree. Twenty feet he fell out of that tree. Twenty feet! She’d never forget seeing him strike the ground, not knowing if the life had been knocked out of him along with his breath.  
Each of these moments made being with him all the more precious.   
She had no knowledge of other men and a proper woman did not listen to gossip. But as those hands drew her closer and a pleasure so intense it brought pain arched her back, Caroline recalled the words her mother had spoken to her when she turned thirteen and boys began to call.   
‘Men will have their way. When the time comes, it will be your duty to submit, but don’t expect your pleasure to equal his.’   
Caroline laughed as Charles’ lips brushed her cheek. He whispered something in her ear and his hands moved down.   
Her mother had been right in a way. Her pleasure did not equal Charles’.   
It far exceeded it.   
Caught in the moment, she heard herself moan. Guilt flooded her, lessening her joy for a moment as her eyes went to the far corner of the ceiling of the room they shared, which was also Mary and Laura’s floor. Charles must have sensed the change in her because his fingers caught her chin, directing her eyes to meet his own.   
“There is no... shame in...love,” he said, breathless.   
Images flashed before her eyes. Her mother, batting her father’s hand away – chiding him as he playfully patted her behind. The older woman’s indignation when he kissed her in public. How they sat inches apart in the church pew – and at home.   
She craved Charles’ touch. It was a hunger, as deep a hunger as she had ever known. She could not imagine turning him away – even if she did bat his hand away in public now and then.  
Her laugh startled him. He stared at her a moment and then grinned.  
“You are a wicked woman, Caroline Ingalls. Do you know that?” he whispered in her ear.  
Yes, she knew it.  
And she wouldn’t have had it any other way.   


Chapter Two

“Do you have to go, Pa?” Laura asked.   
Her father looked up from what he was doing, which was anchoring some tools in the back of the wagon.   
“Yes, Half-pint, I have to go.”  
She’d climbed up into the wagon and was sitting with her knees on Pa’s big tool box and her elbows resting on the seat, looking back over the bed. She’d been studying her Pa. She’d decided he was the handsomest man she had ever seen and one day she was going to marry him.  
Wouldn’t no one else do.  
That silly old Nellie Oleson thought her pa was good looking, but he wasn’t. Mr. Oleson looked like one of those hound dogs with the long faces and sad eyes.   
‘Course, that was ‘cause he was married to Mrs. Oleson.   
“Half-pint?”  
Laura started. “Huh?”  
Pa was staring at her with that ‘look’ on his face – like he could read every thought goin’ through her head.   
“I asked you to hand me my tool box. That is, if you can find somethin’ else to prop you up so you can keep gawkin’.”  
Her cheeks blushed red as she moved off the wooden box, lifted it, and handed it to her pa, and then sat down on the wagon seat. Laura remained silent a moment as her father strapped the box down so it wouldn’t bounce around on his trip to the neighboring farm, and then said, “You’ve been gone an awful lot lately, Pa.” The little girl paused. “I...Ma misses you.”  
Her pa stopped with his fingers in the middle of a knot. He finished it off and then came around and climbed into the wagon and sat next to her. For a moment, he said nothing. Then he asked, “Laura, what do you think life is about?”  
Her eyes popped as she looked up at him. “That’s kind of a big question, Pa,” she said.  
“Well, you’re a big girl now, aren’t you? Isn’t that what you keep tellin’ me and your ma?” Pa turned so he was facing her. “Big girls deserve big questions. Right?”  
Slowly she nodded. “I...guess so.”  
After a moment, Pa said, “Well?”  
Her face was wrinkled up like a prune. “Well, sir, the Reverend Alden says we are here to bring glory to God.”  
Her pa smiled. She liked it when he did that. His green eyes sparkled and his white teeth flashed. “That’s right. And just how do we bring glory to God?”  
She was thinkin’ real hard, so hard her brain needed her tongue to do part of the work. It was pressed against her top lip.   
“Well, ma says....”  
Pa took her hand. “I don’t want to know what Ma says. I want to know what Laura thinks.”  
‘Laura’ again. Not ‘Half-pint’.  
This was serious.   
“Well, I guess...it would be doin’ what Jesus did,” she said at last, glancing at him and trying to see if she was getting it right. “Followin’ God’s commandments. Loving God and doing unto others as we would have them to do us.”  
Those green eyes were fixed on her face. “What did you just say?”  
The little girl frowned. “I said doin’ unto others as....” Laura sighed. “Oh.”  
“Laura, Mr. and Mrs. Scott are our neighbors. Now John, well, he can do some things by himself – just like me – but there are other things he needs help for. It’ll be a few weeks before the crop is ripe and I have extra time on my hands, and so I’m doin’ unto him like he’s gonna do unto me.”  
“What do you mean, Pa?”  
Her father smiled. “I’m helping John put the roof back on his barn, and then he’s gonna come here and help me dig that new well I’ve been promisin’ your Ma.”  
Their old one wasn’t no good anymore. Somethin’ happened and the water went bad. Ma was gettin’ awful tired of goin’ down to the creek to get water to wash clothes and things. Probably just about as tired as Mr. Scott was of takin’ care of animals in a barn with no roof.   
“I’m sorry, Pa,” she sighed. “I wasn’t thinking.”  
Her father squeezed her fingers. “Yes, you were. You were thinkin’ of yourself.” At her look he added with a smile, “Just like me and everyone else. I can tell you, Half-pint, I’d rather take you and your sisters and go huntin’ bittersweet in the cool, dark woods today than climb up to the top of that old barn and bake and sweat, but it’s gotta be done before the snow flies. Just like the well.”  
Once the ground got hard Pa couldn’t dig it out.   
“How much longer is it gonna take at Mister Scot’s?” she asked.  
Her pa stood up tall and then jumped down to the ground. “We might finish today. More likely tomorrow, so long as the weather holds,” he said as he offered her his hands. Laura took them and then giggled as her pa whirled her around in a circle before placing her feet on the ground. “I figure I’ll spend the rest of this week gettin’ the diggin’ started and then John can come by the first of next week and we’ll dig that new well as deep as it needs to go.”  
She knew from before, when they’d been in Kansas, that it took at least two men to finish a well. There came a time a man couldn’t dig any deeper without help. They had to take turns with first one of them on top lifting the buckets of dirt out and the other one way down deep in the earth, digging, and then the other way around. It was hard work and could be dangerous.  
She was sure glad Pa wasn’t going to be doing it alone and that Mr. Scot knew all about doin’ unto others just like Pa did.   
“Can I help?” she asked as her pa took her hand and they started to walk toward the house.  
“You ask your ma. I’m sure there’s some things you can do, but you hear me, Half-pint, you stay away from that well opening once it’s started. I don’t want any of you girls comin’ close unless your ma is with you.”  
Laura knew her father’s voice and she recognized his ‘layin’ down the law’ tone.  
“Yes, sir,” she said, trying not to sound disappointed. She’d wanted to look down into that hole when Pa got it deep enough to see whether or not it was true, like Mister Hanson said one day, that a man could see all the way to China.  
As they got to the house, Ma stepped out. Carrie was in her arms, but the little girl wiggled free and ran to Pa. She giggled as he caught her and lifted her up onto his shoulders.  
“Caroline,” he said, all serious. “I think I’m gonna have to make the front door bigger. This little girl of yours is growin’ too tall to fit!”  
Ma looked the pair of them up and down. “I don’t know, Charles. Seems to me it would be easier to cut your legs off below the knees.”  
“Well, that might work,” Pa said, his brow knit like he was thinkin’ through a sum. “But seems to me I need my feet if I’m gonna chase this little girl all the way...into...the...house....” Pa swung Carrie off his shoulders, landed her on the ground, and then made a grab for her.   
Her little sister looked stunned for a moment and then let out a squeal of delight that made Laura put her fingers in her ears.   
A few seconds after Pa disappeared into the house, her mother sighed, “That man....”  
Laura took her mother’s hand. “Pa ain’t ever gonna grow up, is he, Ma?” she asked.  
Her mother looked startled and then laughed. “No.  
“And I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

The warm late summer weather showed no sign of letting up. Charles threw another shovel full of earth up and out of the round hole he was digging and then stopped to run a muddy hand over his forehead. It had rained the night before, not enough to fill the opening he had already created – or give him a break from digging – but more than enough to make him feel like a wallowin’ pig. He was mud from head to toe, so much so that when Laura brought him a drink, she had taken one look at him and fallen to the ground laughing and ended up lookin’ pretty much the same. A fact that only increased Caroline’s desire to keep the girls away from the well. He agreed, though he thought she was goin’ a little overboard since it was only about hip deep at the moment.   
After all, it wasn’t the first well he’d dug and they’d all lived through it before.   
Once it got deep enough – which would probably be by nightfall – he’d promised her that he’d put up some kind of barricade to keep Carrie away. Laura and Mary were old enough to understand the danger. Charles ran a hand through his sweat-soaked curls and thrust them back and out of his eyes, and then turned to look at his wife where she was hanging clothes out on the line. There was somethin’.... He wasn’t quite sure what. Caroline was as jumpy as a girl at her first social. She’d tried to talk him out of digging the well a couple of times now, sayin’ she really didn’t mind going to the creek, and remindin’ him of how dangerous the task was. He’d pushed her, askin’ if she thought takin’ Carrie to the creek when it was up like it was, was any safer than having him dig a hole in ground outside the front door. Charles laughed as he reached for the cup Laura had brought him and the last sip of water in it.   
His wife was awful pretty when she got her dander up.  
He was still standing there, with his back pressed up against the freshly cut wall of earth, when Caroline finished. She handed the empty clothes basket to Mary and sent the girl inside and then headed his way. He smiled at her.   
She didn’t smile back.   
“Supper will be ready in about an hour.” She gave him a look – like the one a school marm gives a little boy when she’s caught him jumpin’ in mud puddles. “You’ll need to clean up.”  
He popped his eyebrows. “Oh? I thought I’d just wear my work clothes.”  
“Charles, you can’t –“ she snapped. Then she realized he was teasing. Her face softened...just a bit. “You‘re a sight!”  
He made a big show of looking himself up and down. “Don’t it say somewhere in the Bible that God made man from mud?”  
She knew he knew what it said.  
“From the ‘dust of the ground’, Charles. Dry dust, I would imagine.  
He thought long and hard before saying, “So...you think God don’t like to get his hands dirty? Is that it?”  
Charles bit back a grin. He loved it when she rolled her eyes.   
“What I think is that more than your hands are dirty,” his wife replied, wrinkling her nose.  
Again, he acted surprised. He looked at his hands and then at her. “Well, you know what? You’re right! They are awful dirty.” Before she could stop him, he caught hold of the end of her skirt. “Maybe I better just...wipe...them...off....”  
“Charles! “  
And then it happened – just what he was hoping. Caroline reeled back, lost her balance due to the slippery edge of the hole, and tumbled right into his waiting – and muddy – arms.   
At least he was laughing.  
“You!” she shouted as she pounded his chest. “You...you! You planned that! Don’t you say you didn’t!”  
He blinked.  
“Did I say I didn’t?”  
She had mud on her nose now. It was all he could do not to plop right down into the mud with her and burst out laughing.   
“You are incorrigible!”   
Charles pressed his lips together, but he knew it was useless, the laughter just bubbled up into his eyes. As Caroline continued to rail – and grow muddier – he became aware of the fact that they had an audience. All three girls were lined up in a row about ten feet from them. Laura was snorting. It was plain as the nose on his face to see that his middle girl was seconds away from another bath. Mary was trying to look sober, but she wasn’t doing a very good job. Carrie was clapping her hands, enjoyin’ the show.   
“Charles! Put me down!” Caroline pleaded. “Supper’s almost ready and now I’ll have to go in and change my clothes and....” She stopped.  
He was staring at her.  
“What?” she demanded.   
Charles formed his face into a frown. “I was just thinkin’ about the Good Book.”  
“The Good...what?”  
“Seems to me there’s a verse in Proverbs. Chapter fourteen, I think.”  
She was staring at him as if he had suddenly grown a second head.   
“Charles, whatever are you...?”  
“Verse twenty-three.”  
Caroline scowled. She thought a moment and then began. “All good work brings a profit –”  
“That’s the one,” he agreed.  
His wife looked at her mud-covered skirt and blouse, and then at him, covered from head to toe. “And just what profit do you think...?”  
He shrugged.  
Then he let her go.  
As Caroline landed in the mud with a good solid, profit-making ‘thud’, he grabbed the sod at the edge of the hole and hauled himself up out of it post-haste.   
“Charles Ingalls! I am going to skin you!”  
She was starting to climb out. He knew he only had a minute. Charles halted by the girls and opened his mud-covered arms and gave the three of them a big brown mud hug.  
Then he tipped a pretend hat and ran lickety-split into the barn, leaving all of them laughin’.  
Even Caroline.

  
Three

Mr. Scott showed up the next day just after breakfast. It was a hot day and a lot drier than the day before. There’d be no mud baths today, Ma said sternly – then she’d smiled. He and Pa were standing by the hole Pa had dug. It was so deep now you could only see the top of Pa’s curly head when he jumped down in it. Laura glanced at their visitor. She’d met him once or twice, but didn’t really remember him. Pa liked to say Mr. Scott wasn’t quite knee-high to a grasshopper – meaning he wasn’t very tall. She had to agree. The older man barely came up to Pa’s shoulder and was stout as a pot-bellied kettle. His hair was as light as Pa’s was dark, and it stuck up straight on his head and looked like straw. The older man’s face was round and red as their rooster’s comb, and his skin looked funny, kind of like cracked earth. Pa said Mr. Scott knew it too, and that he liked to say that he didn’t tan, he peeled.   
She liked Mr. Scott. He was funny.  
Laura put down the basket of apples she’d brought out of the house and then took a seat on the blanket she’d spread on the grass a few yards from the hole. Ma had set her to paring apples and she’d asked if she could go outside and watch Pa and Mr. Scott work while she did it. Her Ma’d given her that ‘look’ and made her double-promise that she wouldn’t go close to the edge of the well before agreein’. And she hadn’t. She was a good dozen feet away. Mary was in the house working on a quilt on account of the fact that she didn’t like the sun and the wet heat, and Carrie was taking a nap. She didn’t mind bein’ outside. In fact, she liked it. She liked the wind and the sun, and even the dew on the ground that was seeping through her blanket and making her pantaloons damp.   
But even more she liked being near her Pa when he was home.   
Pa and Mr. Scott had built a stout windlass. It stood over the well and two buckets hung from it on the ends of the rope. When the windlass was turned, one bucket went down into the well and the other came up. This morning Mr. Scott was going to go down into the well first to fill the buckets with earth while Pa hauled them up, and then tonight, after supper, it was going to be Pa’s turn. Laura liked to watch her pa work. Most of the time he had his sleeves all the way down, since the sun burnt him brown if he wore them up. But today, working as hard as he was going to, he had them pushed all the way up. He was hauling the bucket up right now and his muscles were ripplin’ and shinin’ in the sun. Her pa was a strong man, bein’ a farmer and a sawmill worker and a carpenter and all. He was just about the strongest man she knew.  
The handsomest too.   
Every morning, before they went down into the well, Pa lit a candle and put it in one of the buckets and sent it down into the hole. She’d been mighty puzzled by that the first time he did it. She didn’t remember him doin’ it out in Kansas – of course, she’d been too little to remember much of anything – but Pa said he had. He told her it was nothing for her to worry about. She wasn’t so sure. She’d seen the look on her ma’s face and she could tell Ma was scared.   
Today when the bucket came up, Pa looked inside and announced, ‘Seems to be all right.’   
Mr. Scott, with his fat fingers perched on his hips – which made him look even more like a round copper kettle – shook his head as he replied, ‘That’s all foolishness, Ingalls. The well was all right yesterday.’   
Pa rose to his feet. He glanced at their neighbor and then blew out the candle. ‘You can’t ever tell. Better be safe than sorry.’  
And then the two of them went to work.   
Later, Laura was still puzzling over what her Pa was lookin’ for with that candle. She’d meant to ask him, but as soon as the apples were done, Ma’d started her in on blackberries, and then it was time to help with dinner and then supper, and then it was time to put Carrie to bed and do her chores and to study her Bible and finish her schoolwork since it was Friday and she didn’t want to have to do it on Saturday and it weren’t right to do it on the Lord’s day of rest.   
Then it was time for bed.   
Pa’d gone back out to the well after supper like he said. Mr. Scott stayed late and the two of them kept busy diggin’ and liftin’ and pullin’ up buckets until most of the light was gone. Ma kept busy too. She kept goin’ to the window and lookin’ out like she expected something to happen, but nothing happened, and finally a few minutes ago, Pa’d come in. He wasn’t covered all over with mud this time, but Ma said he wasn’t clean enough to be let into the bed and so she ordered him to wash up. Pa’d looked at her, and then looked at them, and then went over and sat down in Ma’s chair in front of the fire and was asleep before you could say ‘jumpin’ Jack Robinson’. It took Ma a whole minute to wake him up and then she had to let him lean on her and go to bed dirty as he was.  
Laura shook her head as she watched them go. She knew what she’d be doin’ tomorrow – washin’ sheets!  
Later, once they were in their bed, her sister nudged her and asked, “Laura, are you asleep?”  
“No.”  
There was a pause. “Ma’s worried about Pa digging that well. She said it’s getting too deep.”  
Laura rolled over on her side and propped herself up on an elbow . “Ain’t it supposed to be deep?”  
Mary rolled her eyes, but didn’t correct her grammar. “Yes, but there’s something bad that can happen if it gets too deep.”  
She waited. “So? What bad thing can happen?”  
Her sister shrugged. “I don’t know for sure, but it isn’t good.” She hesitated and then added, “I saw Ma crying. She was watching him and she was crying.”  
Laura sat up. “Ma was crying ‘cause Pa’s digging her a well?” That just didn’t make sense. Pa’d dug other wells. “Maybe they were happy tears?”  
Mary sat up too. She locked her arms around her legs that were under the covers. “Could be, but I don’t think so.”  
She didn’t think so either, but it would have been nice.   
“Do you...do you think we oughta ask her what’s wrong?”  
“No.” Mary sighed. “You know grown-ups. They think they’ll scare us if they say something.”  
“So instead they scare us by sayin’ nothing.”  
Her sister nodded as her brow furrowed and she thought about it. “It has something to do with that candle. The one Pa lights every morning. When Ma sees that candle burning, she lets out a little sigh. You know, like she does when she thinks Carrie’s missing and then she finds her hiding under the table.”  
“So...the candle still burning must be a good thing?”  
The other girl shrugged again. “I guess so.”  
Laura thought hard for a minute. “I bet we could ask Pa.”  
Mary looked at her. Then, she nodded. “Maybe.”  
“I’ll do it tomorrow,” she declared. “And then we can tell Ma what it means so she’ll stop worrying.”  
Her sister glanced at the stair that led down into the house, and then looked back at her.   
“I think it’s because Ma knows what the candle means that she is worrying.”

She should have been sleeping. Instead, Caroline Ingalls was sitting in her chair by the hearth, staring at the fire’s embers as they slowly went to ash. She’d checked on the girls and they were all asleep. Charles was too. Poor man, he was exhausted! She regretted now making a fuss about the state he was in. She should have realized he didn’t have the energy to change his clothes and wash up. When she’d checked on him a little while back, he was in the same position she’d left him in. He hadn’t moved a muscle in four hours! Dear man, he was working so hard to give her what she’d asked for.   
And what she didn’t want anymore.  
Well, she did, but she didn’t.  
It was hard to explain, even to herself – the terror that had gripped her at the thought of Charles descending into the earth. She’d thought and thought and thought about why and kept coming up blank. When Charles first mentioned digging a well, she’d been overjoyed. They hadn’t been in Walnut Grove all that long and, while she didn’t mind going to the creek for water, a well would make her life so much easier. A step outside the door and there the clean water would be, not only for cooking, but for washing and bathing, and....  
And....  
What?   
Caroline closed her eyes, leaned back and rested her head on the chair, allowing her mind to roam. It took her to a dozen places – to the first time she had seen Charles, to the birth of her first child; to that time when Laura decided she just had to see the entry of Patty’s foal into the world and the wonder she had beheld in her little girl’s eyes. And then, like a brightly lit day overtaken by sudden clouds, her world darkened as she watched Charles disappear under the raging torrent of water they had been forced to cross on their way to Kansas. She saw her children sicken, and then lay in their beds unable to move, calling out in a fever delirium, not making sense. Their torment took her back even farther, to her own childhood and a time when she had been deathly ill. She’d been at a friend’s house. The water in their well had gone bad, but no one knew it. They’d shared a refreshing drink on a hot day and both of them had come down sick. A month or so later her friend’s father began to dig a new one just as Charles was doing, sending down the bucket each morning and checking for the candle’s flame – that flame that was the tell-tale sign that the very earth he was seeking life from would not kill him.  
She could see her father at her side, looking down. She’d asked him what the flame meant and he’d told her how it was a watch dog for poisonous gas. The older man had sighed and run a hand through his thinning locks. Then he’d looked straight at her and told her how, when he was a boy, there had been a man decided to dig a well. One day he dug it deep enough it became his grave.  
The candle had gone out.  
Caroline shuddered as she reached for her shawl. It had fallen away from her shoulders and, with the fire nearly out, the room had grown chill. Before she could retrieve it, someone caught it and placed it around her shoulders.  
Charles.   
Her husband crossed to the table. Catching hold of one of the kitchen chairs, he pulled it toward the hearth and positioned it in front of hers. For a moment he sat in silence, staring at the dying embers. Then he ran a hand through his tousled curls and with a sigh looked straight at her.   
“You want to tell me about it?” he asked.   
“About what?”  
He leaned back in his chair. “About whatever it is that’s scarin’ you.”  
“Who says I’m scared?” she countered – a little too quickly.  
He snorted. “Me.”   
A smile tickled the corner of her lips. “Well, you have been known to be wrong.”  
Charles nodded. “I guess I have. But I’m not now.”  
She sucked in air and then looked down at her hands. “No, you’re not. I.... I just....” Caroline bit her lips, fighting down unreasonable fear. “Charles, I’m terrified something will go wrong!”  
He didn’t dismiss her. He simply said, “I’ve dug wells before.”  
“I know. And I know you know what you’re doing . I just....”   
Another image flashed before her eyes – her friend’s father, deathly pale; his hands crossed over the breast of his suit coat and his eyes closed, laying in a cherry box. She closed her eyes to dismiss it. Why now? Why remember this now? And why hadn’t this fear gripped her in Kansas when Charles’ built their first well? It was ridiculous!   
She shook her head. Her voice was small. “I’m just being a silly Sally!”  
Charles leaned forward to place a hand on her arm. “No. You’re not. Diggin’ a well is dangerous work. Can be dangerous work. But Caroline, you’ve seen. I send the candle down every mornin’.”  
She nodded. Her voice was more breath than sound. “I know. I know.”   
“Caroline, look at me.”  
She sucked in air, blinked back tears, and did as her husband asked.  
“Every day I do dangerous work, whether it’s in the field or at the mill, or just climbing up onto a man’s roof to put the shingles back on. Diggin’ a well’s no different, and you know as well as I do that worryin’ won’t change a thing.” He took his hand and caught her chin in his fingers, lifting her head and forcing her to meet his steady gaze. “All the days ordained for me were written in God’s Book long before I came to be. Isn’t that what it says in His word?”  
She nodded, shamed. “I’m sorry.”  
After a pause, her husband said, “Well now, don’t be that.”  
Caroline frowned as the last log crashed to the hearthstones, casting a warm red glow over the two of them. Charles looked so strong, so handsome – so alive.  
“Why not?” she finally asked.  
Charles’ lip twitched. The smile reached his eyes before lifting both corners of his mouth. “I kind of like it when you worry about me.”  
She stared at him dumbfounded for a moment. Then she smacked his arm. “You can’t have it both ways. You can’t tell me not to worry and then tell me that you like it when I do!”  
Charles rose from his chair. He leaned over her and planted a kiss on the top of her head – followed by the words.   
“I just did.”  
“You...” She rose as well. “I should....”  
He had moved to stand by the table. The moonlight falling from the upper window struck his strong, masculine form, sending shivers through her. He’d shed the filthy clothing he’d fallen asleep in and was wearing only his night shirt.  
“You should come to bed,” her husband said, his words soft and inviting. “I got it all warmed up.”  
She was tired. After all, she hadn’t slept for the last five hours like he had. But she knew from experience just how quickly that fatigue could fly once she was in her husband’s arms.   
“I’ll come – if you promise me one thing.”  
Charles’ lips pursed as his eyebrows danced toward the curls dangling down on his forehead. “Oh? What’s that?”  
“That you won’t – under any circumstances – go down into that hole if there is any chance it will put your life in danger.”  
He stared at her a moment and then walked over and took her hands. Charles looked into her eyes as he leaned down and kissed her on the lips.   
“I promise,” he said. “There. Do you feel better?”  
“Mm-hmm,” she replied as she slipped her fingers into his.  
Of course, she’d lied.  


Four

The next morning dawned bright and beautiful. The humidity that had plagued them for the last few late summer days had lifted along with everyone’s spirits. Even Caroline felt better, the fears of the night before fading in light of the beautiful sunrise and the first bright blue sky they had seen in days. The sun’s rays poured in the window, waking her to the sounds of breakfast being prepared in the kitchen. Mortified that she had overslept, the blonde woman hastily tossed on a skirt and blouse, pinned her hair in place, and headed for the spot where her duty called her to be. She was greeted not only by her husband’s brilliant smile, but by the smiles on her children’s faces – and a smear of blackberry jam on Carrie’s – as they told her to take a seat and proudly placed a plate that held three flapjacks – again, topped with berries – and two strips of bacon on the table before her.   
Charles poured himself a cup of coffee and then came to sit beside her. A moment later he burst out laughing at the look on her face.   
“You better look under the table and check your Ma’s socks,” he said, winking at Mary and Laura, who were standing at the side of the table with big grins on their faces. “I think you might of just knocked them off.”  
Carrie, of course, obliged instantly, disappearing under the table cloth. The blonde woman jumped as ten little fingers picked at her foot and then her youngest child’s cherubic face showed up just under her elbow.   
“Still there!”  
Caroline shook her head. “I should have been up hours ago! What did you mean, letting me sleep so late?”  
“You looked awful tired last night, Ma,” Mary said in explanation. “Pa was up early since he went to sleep early and he said it would be okay.”  
“Don’t you like your breakfast?” Laura asked.  
“Well, of course, I like it!” she exclaimed. “But I feel...well...guilty. I should be taking care of all of you!”  
“Seems to me,” Charles said as he took another sip and leaned back in his chair, “that if it’s more blessed to give than to receive, then you gotta be able to receive once in awhile, else others can’t give.”  
He was right, of course.   
But she still felt guilty.  
“Ain’t you gonna try your flapjacks, Ma?” Laura asked, running the back of her hand across her pert little nose to wipe the flour away.   
“They’re mighty good!” Charles exclaimed as he ran a hand over his stomach and smiled.   
“Pa had eight!” Carrie exclaimed as she climbed up into his lap.  
“Well, now, my girl, I gotta have enough energy to pick you up and....” Giggles exploded as he tickled their youngest and then stood up and tossed her into the air. As he put her feet-first back on the ground, he added, “And to finish that well.”  
Caroline stopped with her fork halfway to her mouth. “Do you think you’ll finish today? Really?”  
“If we work all day. Scott said he could give me just about all of it. His wife’s visiting a sick friend and won’t be back until the day after tomorrow.” Charles winced. “I guess I forgot to tell you. John will be here for dinner and supper again.”  
Caroline finished the bite and took a drink of the milk Laura had placed by her plate. “We’ll have plenty.”  
“Good. Scott’s been a real help. I couldn’t have done it without –“ Her husband nearly choked on his coffee. Without warning a voice had called out, ‘Ingalls, you lazybones! It’s sun-up! Let’s go!’, startling them all.  
Charles walked over to the window. “It’s Scott. He’s early,” he said as he headed for the door. Opening it, he stepped on the porch. “Come on in, John. The coffee’s hot.”  
“Had mine!” the stout man replied. “I’ll just get things going. You go ahead and finish.”  
“I’ll do that,” Charles answered as he closed the door. A moment later the sound of the windlass could be heard as their neighbor lowered the bucket down. Her husband shook his head as he finished his coffee and placed the cup on the dry sink. As he passed her, heading again for the door, Charles leaned down and kissed her on the cheek. “The early bird gets the worm, I guess,” he said with a shrug.   
Caroline caught his hand before he could leave. “Charles....”  
“I’ll be careful,” he promised. Looking up, he smiled at the girls. “Thank you, ladies, for a wonderful breakfast. I’m already lookin’ forward to dinner!”  
As the door closed behind him, she heard Charles begin to whistle. She smiled at the sound and then sat at the table for a few minutes watching as her girls bustled about the room, noting how efficient they were. One day, they would make some lucky man a fine wife! Finally, Laura came up beside her. She had a dishcloth in her hand.   
“Aren’t you gonna finish your breakfast, Ma?” she asked.  
Caroline looked at her plate. She’d only taken a few bites. Truth to tell, she really wasn’t hungry, but she knew the girls would be disappointed if she didn’t eat it all.   
“Of course,” she said, lifting her fork to her lips again. “It’s de – ”  
Charles voice rang out. Loud.   
Urgent.   
“Scott? Scott!” There was a pause and then, “Caroline! Come quick!”  
“Mary, keep your sister inside,” she ordered, nodding at Carrie as she rose to her feet. “Laura, come with me – but stay back away from that hole!”  
“Yes, Ma’am,” her middle child said as she followed obediently at her heels. There was a tremble in Laura’s voice.  
It matched the quaking of her hand as it closed on the latch and opened the door. Charles was on his knees beside the opening he had dug for the well. He was leaning over so far she was afraid he would lose his balance and fall in.  
“What is it?” she called out. “What’s happened?”?  
The face her husband turned toward her was stricken. “It’s Scott. He’s fainted or something down there.” His eyes moved briefly to Laura and then returned to her.   
“Didn’t you send down the candle?” she asked.  
“No. I thought he had already.” Charles scowled. “I asked him if it was all right and he said it was.”   
As he spoke, her husband rose and took his knife out of his pocket. Taking hold of the rope that held the bucket with his other hand, he sliced through it and then began to tie the end firmly to the windlass. As he finished the knot, Charles turned and looked at her.  
“I’ve got to go down after him.”  
His words took her breath away. “Charles, no.... You can’t. You musn’t!”  
Charles moved to stand before her. He gave Laura a half-smile before meeting her frightened stare. “Caroline, I’ve got to.”  
She caught his sleeve in her hand. “You can’t! Oh, Charles, no!”  
“I’ll make it all right,” he said, his eyes never leaving hers. “I won’t breathe ‘til I get out.” He stopped and looked at Laura again. “Half-pint, you get my knife for me. I dropped it. Take it and go back to the house and wait there.”  
Laura’s eyes were huge. They went from Charles to her and back. “Yes, sir,” she said, her voice as small as she was.   
“Laura, keep back! You stay away from the edge!” she all but shouted as her child bent to retrieve the knife. A moment later the little girl went running by them, headed for the house where she joined Mary who had come out and was standing with Carrie in her arms.   
Charles spoke, his voice low. “Caroline, you know I have to do this. We can’t let Scott die down there.”  
“No. No, Charles! I can’t let you!” she insisted as the vision of her friend’s father lying dead in his cherry coffin flashed again before her eyes. She clung to him, pleading, “Get on Patty and go for help!”  
He shook his head. “You know there isn’t time.”  
Caroline was looking past him, at the hole that yawned like an open mouth waiting to devour the man she loved. “Charles, if I can’t pull you up...” She sucked in air like a woman drowning. “If you keel over down there and I can’t pull you up....”  
He placed a hand on her cheek and waited until she met his gaze. The fingers of his other hand brushed hers and then – gently – disengaged.  
“Caroline, I’ve got to.”  
Charles walked away. When he got to the windlass, he placed a hand on it and turned back to look at her. His mouth formed the words ‘I love you’.   
Then he took hold of the rope and swung into the well and disappeared out of sight. 

As Pa’s head disappeared down into that well, Ma fell to her knees beside it. She looked down into it for the longest time and then seemed to remember they were watchin’. When she did, she spun around lickety-split and ordered them to take Carrie back into the house. She and Mary didn’t want to go. They didn’t want to take their eyes off of that deep opening in the earth in case it swallowed Pa up and he never came out again. When they didn’t move, Ma shouted at them again and finally Mary took Carrie inside. She and Mary were both cryin’ and Carrie was cryin’ too, even though she wasn’t old enough to know enough to be scared.   
Laura was old enough to know enough and she was really scared.  
She’d asked Pa again that morning about why he sent the candle down every day before going in the well. He explained to her that there was a kind of gas that stayed deep in the ground. It was heavier than air and so it liked the bottom of wells. It couldn’t be seen or smelled, but no one could breathe it very long and live. And even if they did live, sometimes they weren’t the same. Sometimes it made a man not be able to think straight – maybe, it made him the kind of man who made mistakes.  
Laura’s gaze returned to the well. Ma was kneeling beside it. Her eyes were closed and her lips were moving.   
She was praying.   
Laura closed her eyes and put her hands together and prayed too. She prayed Pa could hold his breath long enough to help Mr. Scott without puttin’ himself in danger.  
She prayed Pa wouldn’t die.  
With her eyes closed, sounds became sharper. She heard the windlass creaking. Heard the bucket hit the side of the well. Her ma was callin’ her pa’s name over and over again. As a warm breeze stirred her hair and tossed its long ends into her face, Laura shivered. She could hear the meadowlarks rising. They were singing. The birds were happy that the new day had come and there was a warm breeze and the sun was up in the sky.   
It was a terrible day.   
“Charles! Dear God! Charles!”  
Her mother’s voice had grown frantic. Laura was afraid to look, but she forced her eyes open and did anyhow. Her ma was on her feet. She’d jumped up and taken hold of the windlass and was tugging with all her might. The rope grew tight. It strained and the windless complained. Laura took a step toward her, thinkin’ maybe she could help. Her mother saw her and shook her head makin’ her halt right where she was. Tears streaked her face as she realized what had just happened. Her Ma didn’t have any strength left to tell her to stay away. Every bit of strength Ma had was bein’ poured into her hands where they gripped the handle of the winch and turned it and turned it and turned it – and still Pa didn’t appear.   
Maybe Pa had keeled over.   
Maybe he was dead weight. 

Caroline’s body trembled. Her arms were strained to the limit. She’d almost lost her grip on the handle of the windlass when she saw Laura coming toward her, but at the last moment had caught hold and continued to turn it. Something heavy was attached to the other end. Something heavier than a bucket full of earth.   
Something heavy as a man.   
She wanted to call out to Charles again, but she simply had no strength remaining to do so. In her heart she knew it didn’t matter anyway. Either Charles was on the other end of the rope or John Scott was. Either way, one of the two men was still at the bottom of the well and the only way to get that man out was to bring up whichever one was attached to the rope.   
Dear God, let it be Charles!   
The windlass creaked again, striking terror in her heart. She knew one of the greatest threats to a man digging a well was that something would fall in and hit him. Back in Pepin, a man had died because he used too big of buckets and one of them snapped the windlass, causing it and the bucket to crash down on him. Caroline’s gaze went to the wooden armature Charles had built. She had to remember her husband was a carpenter. He knew what he was doing.  
The windlass would hold.   
When she turned her eyes back into the well, the blonde woman let out a little cry. Charles’ hand had appeared, gripping the rope. A moment later, his other hand reached above it and he drew himself up, wrapping his arm around the windlass. Dropping her own grip on the rope, Caroline wrapped her arms around him and held him for a moment and then tugged with all her might. As Charles came free, the windlass whirled and there was a thud deep in the well.  
A moment later they were both lying on the ground. 

Pa was layin’ on the ground and he wasn’t moving.   
Laura hugged the wall of the house and bit back tears. She couldn’t breathe. It was just like she’d been at the bottom of that well with Pa and her breath had been taken away by that gas. Ma was holdin’ onto Pa and callin’ his name over and over again while she ran her fingers through his hair. Pa’s hair was all matted with mud. His face was brown with it and his eyes were closed.  
Wait. No.  
They were opening.  
“Laura!” her ma called, startling her.   
She pushed off the wall. “Ma?”  
Pa was struggling to sit up. Ma was holding him tight, scolding him just like she did them. “Sit still, Charles!” she ordered. Then she said, “Laura, get some water for your pa! Quick!”  
She didn’t wait to be told twice. Running as fast as she could, she went to the rain barrel beside the house and filled a bucket with water and then lugged it back to the edge of the well where Ma sat holding onto Pa. When she got there, he looked up at her. Something was wrong, she could tell, but Pa smiled anyway and gave her a little nod.  
Falling to her knees beside him, Laura held out the graniteware ladle.  
“Here, Pa.”  
He nodded again and took a drink and then tried to say something, but couldn’t. Pa swallowed hard and spit out a ‘thanks’ that sounded like feet draggin’ gravel, and then he started to get up.  
“Charles! What do you think you are doing?” Ma demanded.  
Pa stumbled over to the windlass and took hold of the handle. He started to turn it, but had to stop to draw a breath.   
“Caroline... I need...help,” he admitted. “Scott....”  
Her mother frowned. “Laura, you get back and stay back. You hear me?”  
She nodded even as she reluctantly moved away.   
“Grab the...windlass. Turn!” Pa ordered.  
Slowly the rope wound itself up. Pa and ma were both sweating and Pa was breathing heavy, like he’d run a race. At first, she couldn’t see that anything was happening, but then the bucket came up and tied to the rope underneath the bucket was Mr. Scott. His arms and legs hung and his head wobbled; his mouth was partly open and his eyes half shut. Pa let go of the windlass and grabbed the little fat man right quick by one arm and the collar and then hauled back with all of his might and tugged Mr. Scott onto the grass. Dropping to his knees beside him, Pa took hold of Mr. Scott’s wrist and held it for a moment and then he lowered his head to his chest and placed an ear above his heart.   
Everything was real quiet. Ma was standing with her hand on her mouth. Carrie had stopped crying inside the house. Even the meadowlarks had stopped singing.   
“Charles?” her mother asked.   
“He’s breathing,” Pa said. “He’ll be all right in the air.”  
And then Pa collapsed. 

Five

Charles’ head was spinning. He was dizzy and nauseous and couldn’t see straight. Drawing a deep breath was impossible. It felt like that time as a boy when he had pneumonia, like his chest was so tight there was nowhere in it for air.   
He couldn’t let Caroline know.  
Pushing up on one elbow, he coughed and then managed to spit out, “I’m all right, Caroline.” At her disbelieving look, he managed to add a weak smile. “I’m just plain tuckered out is all.”  
If he lived to be one hundred, he’d never be able to figure out women. One minute they were worried that you were dyin’ and the next they were sure they wanted to kill you . Caroline stared at him. Her jaw went tight and her nostrils flared.   
She drew in a breath and then started yelling.  
“ Well! I should think you would be!” One hand went to her hip while the other wagged at him. “Of all the senseless performances! My goodness gracious! Scaring a body to death and all for want of a little reasonable care!” His wife stopped. She stared at him for a moment and then her hand went to her chest. “My goodness, Charles! I...”   
There she went again, from wantin’ to kill him back to worried.   
“Charles, you could have....” Caroline shivered and then she caught her apron in her hands and covered her face with it as she burst out crying. “I don’t want a well! It isn’t worth it!” For a second she emerged from the river of white cloth she was swimmin’ in to look at him. “Charles, I can’t.... I won’t have you running such risks!”  
Gettin’ up was a risk, but it was one worth takin’. And it took about everything that was in him.   
“Here, Pa. Let me help you.”  
He hadn’t heard her come close, but Laura was there. She came up under him and wrapped her little arms around his waist and steadied him so he could make it to his feet. He saw her frown when he wobbled and met her worried stare with a little shake of his head while rollin’ his eyes over toward her ma. Half-pint nodded and then, when he started to pull away, let go.  
But she didn’t go very far.   
Two halting steps brought him to his wife who had her face buried again and was sobbing into her apron. Somethin’ wasn’t quite right. He couldn’t seem to make his legs work or his feet go where he wanted them too. Still, somehow he got over to her on his own and took her in his arms.   
“It’s all right,” he said softly as his hand found her hair. “I’m here and I’m still breathin’.”  
Caroline stiffened and then looked at him.  
“Oh, Charles!” she sobbed as she buried her face against his shoulder. Her fingers took hold of the filthy cloth of his shirt and twisted it. “I knew. Somehow, I knew... I could have lost you!”  
Just behind them John was stirring. The older man had taken in a healthy dose of the gas, enough so that he was out when he found him just like that candle should have been. Darn fool! He’d warned him not to go down into that hole without first makin’ sure it was safe.   
It was God’s grace that there weren’t two dead men lyin’ at the bottom of that well.   
Caroline lifted her head and met his eyes, daring him to lie. “Are you all right?” she asked. “Really all right?”  
Really? He didn’t know.   
With a little chuckle, he answered, “About as right as I’ve ever been.”  
“Charles....”  
“Pa. Mr. Scott’s wakin’ up.”  
Charles looked down, followin’ his girl’s eyes, and almost instantly regretted it as the world began to spin. Laura stepped closer and gave him a big hug, catching him just before he toppled over.   
Caroline didn’t miss it. She was just about to challenge him when their oldest daughter called from the house, ”Ma? Is it okay if Carrie and I come outside?”   
The exhausted man blew out a sigh.   
Thank Heavens for small favors! 

Laura didn’t miss it either. Mary callin’ out had saved Pa from admittin’ to Ma just how bad it was. She could tell he was feelin’ poorly, but he wasn’t gonna admit it, because admittin’ it would mean Ma had been right all along and he shouldn’t ought to have dug the well so deep. She knew Pa was hurtin’ ‘cause he was leanin’ real heavy on her like he would’ve fallen down if she hadn’t been holdin’ him up.  
“Are you okay, Pa?” she asked as she helped him to walk over to where Mr. Scott lay.  
He smiled down at her and nodded. “Like I told your ma, Half-pint, I’m just plain tuckered out. I’d kind of like to lay down, but I’ve got to make sure John’s all right first.”   
When they got to Mister Scott’s side, Pa pushed off her and then he sort of fell to the grass where he sat beside their neighbor.   
Mister Scott was awake. He looked kind of confused, but he recognized Pa right enough. “Ingalls,” he started and then coughed.   
Pa put a hand on his shoulder. “You just keep quiet, John. You don’t need to say anything.”  
“Yes...I do.” The older man sucked in air, coughed again, and then went on. “You were...right...about that candle business. I thought it was...foolishness at best and I...didn’t need to bother with it.” His eyes closed and he laid his head back down on the ground. “But I’ve found my...mistake.”   
Pa left his hand on Mr. Scott’s shoulder as he turned and looked at the hole he’d dug, at the broken windlass and the rope hanging there.   
“Well, where a light can’t live, I know I can’t. And I like to be safe when I can be.” Pa stopped and then he looked at her. He looked real tired, like he didn’t feel just right, but he smiled as he reached out and took her hand. “But I guess all’s well that ends well.”

Charles wasn’t fooling her. Not at all.   
They’d brought John Scott into the house and placed him in the room up front. Carrie would sleep with her sisters. It had been late afternoon by the time they’d managed it and Charles was white as a ghost from the effort of moving the solid, stout man who could do little to help himself. He’d put on a brave front for the girls – and for her – and had managed to downplay what might have happened. By the time supper rolled around, Charles complained about a headache and had gone to bed.   
She’d checked on him at least a dozen times.   
For her part, she’d spent the evening doing much the same thing, attempting to make the girls forget what had happened – what had almost happened. Mary was very quiet and said little, she just went about her chores. Carrie, sensing her older sister’s mood, had been a handful the entire night until she disappeared and they found her curled up against Charles’ side with her thumb in her mouth. She’d sent Mary up to the loft with their youngest and that left Laura with her.   
Laura who had witnessed the entire thing.   
She’d let the little girl stay up with her. It was way past her bedtime, but if the truth were known, she appreciated the company. She was attempting to mend the shirt Charles had worn when he went into the well, though if the truth be known it was most likely destined for the rag bucket. Laura had her head bent over her Bible so far her nose was practically touching the pages. She wasn’t sure if she was concentrating or falling asleep.  
Putting the shirt down, Caroline folded her hands over it as she gently suggested, “Laura, maybe you should go to bed.”  
Her daughter jerked and turned toward her. Her eyes were bright and not dulled by sleep at all. “Do I have to?” she asked.  
“Well, soon enough,” she sighed.  
“You need to sleep too, Ma. You look real tired.”  
She supposed she did. She was real tired – just not sleepy.   
After a moment Laura said, “You knew somethin’ was gonna happen. Didn’t you? To Pa, I mean.” Her daughter’s nose scrunched and her lips pursed. “How?”  
How indeed? Had it just been a fear, born of a childhood fright, or had it been something more? Caroline folded her hands over the shirt in her lap. “Do you remember the time when Elijah was told to go to the mountain and wait for God to pass by?”  
Her daughter turned toward her and nodded. “Yes, Ma’am. First there was a wind that broke the rock, then there was an earthquake, and then a fire, but God wasn’t in any of them. He was in the whisper that came after them.”  
Caroline’s hand went to her chest. She drew in a breath and resisted the urge to go check on Charles yet again. “There is a still small voice, here,” she said, moving her fingers. “God speaks through it.”  
“He didn’t want Pa to die. God, I mean,” Laura said, all childish innocence. “Because He knows we need him.”  
The blonde woman reached out and placed her hand on her child’s. “Yes, He knows we need him.”  
Sometime later, after Laura had finally given up and joined her sisters in the loft, Caroline climbed into the bed beside her husband. Slowly, gently – so as not to wake him – she slipped one arm under him and placed the other on the top of his chest and held him. After a moment he shifted. The movement brought a moan he would have hidden if he had been fully awake and then a short harsh cough.  
“I’m...fine,” he mumbled before she could say anything.   
She couldn’t help it. She laughed.   
“No, you’re not. You’re hopeless!” she whispered back.   
He chuckled a bit and then drew in a rattle of air. “That too.”  
Since he was awake, her grip on him tightened. “Charles, I was so afraid. I –”  
“I’m here,” he replied. “Caroline, let it go.”  
She closed her eyes and rested her face against his back, breathing in the scent of him. It was musty and smelled of the earth that had almost become his grave. He must have felt her tremble because – though it cost him – he rolled over and took her in his arms.   
“Caroline, now you take this right. My help came from the Lord, not from your worryin’.” He drew a breath before continuing. “He didn’t let my foot slip. He kept me from harm, and He’ll watch my comin’ and goin’ until the day He takes me home.”  
Charles was so strong.   
Much stronger than her.   
“I’m sorry for being such a silly ninny,” she whispered into the cloth of his night shirt, feeling chagrinned. “Throwing my apron over my head and acting like a little girl who’d seen a snake. What must Laura have thought?”  
“That her ma wasn’t perfect.”  
She looked up at him. “What?”  
Charles reached out and brushed a lock of hair from her eyes. “No one is perfect but the Lord, Caroline. We might be older than the girls, but we’re both still children, capable of makin’ mistakes.” He stopped, coughed, and continued. “You were right. Diggin’ the well was dangerous. Once I knew Scott was fightin’ me on the candle, I should have got help.”  
She caught his fingers in hers. “And you were right! I shouldn’t have let something that happened in the past color what was happening in the present.”  
He was silent a moment. “So, if we’re both right, can we stop talkin’ and get some sleep?”  
“Men!” she murmured, and then she pulled him closer and did just that. 

“Come along, Laura, and I’ll show you something.”  
Laura looked up at her pa. He looked much better today. Both he and Mr. Scott had taken it easy the day before and not done any work. When she woke up this morning, she’d seen Pa outside sittin’ on the tree stump and lookin’ at the well and had come out to find out what he was thinkin’. He’d caught her around the waist and lifted her onto his knee and they’d sat there for a while, listenin’ to the birds singin’ and enjoyin’ the breeze, and then he had taken her hand and they had started walking.  
Toward the well.   
As she watched Pa took a little tow from his tow sack and a little powder from his powder horn. He tied the powder in a piece of cloth with one end of the tow thread in the powder. As she watched, he lit the end of the string and waited until the spark was crawling along it. Then he dropped the little bundle in the well.   
When she tried to look where it had gone, Pa’s broad hand held her back. A second later she knew why. There was a muffled bang and a puff of smoke came out of the well.   
“That will bring the gas,” Pa said.   
When the smoke was gone Pa let her light the candle and together they let it down. All the way down into the hole the light kept burning like a little star.   
“Is it safe now?” she asked. “Safe to keep digging?”  
He nodded. “Yes. Today, maybe tomorrow, we should reach the water and then your Ma will have her well and you girls won’t have to go to the creek no more to fetch it.”  
Laura stared into the big, dark hole, thinking about how – maybe – Pa could have ended up all the way in China.  
Or dead.  
“I don’t mind so much,” she said quietly.   
Pa knelt beside her and wrapped an arm around her waist. “Seems to me you been complainin’ enough about it.”  
Laura wrinkled her nose. Then she sniffed. “I shouldn’t have, on account of....”  
“I could have died down there?”  
A single tear trailed down her cheek as she nodded.  
Pa sat down on the grass and then pulled her down beside him. He kept his arms around her, but turned his face up and into the wind.   
“You want to know a little secret?” he asked after a moment.  
Laura looked over at him. Pa’s color was back and he didn’t look tired. Gosh! If he wasn’t about the most handsomest man she’d ever saw!   
“Sure thing,” she nodded.  
“Now, don’t you tell your Ma, but I was scared too.”  
Laura’s heart quickened. “Scared you was gonna die?”  
He shook his head. “Scared I was gonna have to leave you – you and your ma. I know where I’m goin’ once the Good Lord calls me, but I ain’t ready to answer that call yet.” His lips curled in a half-smile. “I told Him that too!”  
“You talked to God when you was in that well?” She peered into the hole, wondering if God was still down there.  
Her Pa’s arm held her tight, keeping her back from the edge. “All the way down and all the way up, but most of all at the bottom.” He closed his eyes and a little shudder went through him, like he was cold. “I couldn’t see a thing. It was black as pitch. For a minute, well, I lost hope.”  
“You, Pa?”  
He laughed at her expression. “Yes, me, Half-pint. Pa’s get scared too.”  
She shook her head. “I wouldn’t never have believed it.”  
“Believe it. But then, while I was groping around in the mud, tryin’ to find a boot or a hand or even a handful of hair to grab onto, I remembered somethin’ your ma had read just the night before.”  
Laura frowned. “Out of the Bible?”  
He nodded. “I waited patiently for the Lord; and He inclined unto me, and heard my cry. He brought me up also out of an horrible pit, out of the miry clay, and set my feet upon a rock, and established my goings. And He hath put a new song in my mouth, even praise unto our God. Many shall see it, and fear, and shall trust in the Lord.”   
She was quiet a moment. “You mean...well...we got us a story to tell, of how God saved you?”  
“Sometimes, Half-pint, things come into our lives. We don’t understand them. Seems to us that maybe God isn’t looking – like somethin’ maybe slipped past Him. But He’s always watching – and He’s always there.”  
“He knew you was gonna go down in that hole to save Mr. Scott, and He knew He was gonna get you out, is that what you mean?”  
“And God knew you and I would be sittin’ here talkin’ about it. And maybe, in the end, that’s what it was for.” Her Pa looked at her so serious she almost thought she was in trouble. “Laura.”  
She swallowed. “Yes, sir?”   
“It could have been in God’s plan for me to not make it out of that hole. You know that, don’t you?”  
It took a moment, but she nodded.  
He reached out and brushed a lock of hair out of her eye, one the wind had blown there. “And if I hadn’t made it out, then God would have still been God and He would have still known what He was doin’. Right?”  
That was a hard one. She knew Pa wanted her to say ‘yes’, but she wasn’t sure she could.  
She bit her lip long enough for him to know she wasn’t gonna say it.   
Pa looked hard at her and then he smiled. Rising, he held out his hand. “How about you and me go inside and get some breakfast? I can smell the flapjacks from here.”  
As they walked, she thought about what he had asked her. When they neared the door, she tugged on his hand and pulled him to a halt.  
“What is it, Half-pint?” he asked.   
She bit her lip again and then said, quick as she could, “I don’t know what I’d do without you, Pa, but I guess if God thought I could make it, then I could. I’d take care of Ma for you and Mary and Carrie, like I know you’d want me to. But Pa....”  
He was watching her. “What?”  
“Is it okay to let God know that I don’t want to have to do that?”  
Her father reached down and caught her in his strong arms and picked her up and held her close. “You tell God anything you want to, darlin’. He’s always listenin’. And He loves you.”  
Laura was silent for a moment. She reached out and brushed a dark curl from her pa’s cheek.  
“I love you, Pa, more than anything in the world.”  
Pa pulled her close and held her tight.  
“Half-pint, I love you too.”  
_____  
END


End file.
